You took a hair from my head and wrapped it round my little finger
We watched it turn from white to red, you said "I don't think you love her."
And I don't know what I would do
If I got you in my bedroom
I don't know what I would do
I'd probably choke on you
You couldn't wipe the smile from my face
I heard you took your drugs off the hip of some prick one lonely summer?
We spoke in self-important tongues, I said "Yeah, as if I'd touch her."
And I don't know what I would do
If I got you in my bedroom
I don't know what I would do
I'd probably choke on you
You couldn't wipe the smile from my face
And when you're done, lick me up
It's not love, it's just a goddamn disgrace
I took a hair from your head and wrapped it round your middle finger
"Sometimes I wish that I was dead."
"Oh please! As if I'd ever let ya."
And I don't know what I could do...
But I'd choke on you
You couldn't wipe the smile from my face
And when you're done, lick me up
It's not love, it's just a goddamn disgrace
If I can't sleep, then it's your fault
It's your fault I'm the wreck I am
And if I can't speak, then it's your fault
And I miss you more than I can stand
But I don't know
I want to choke on you
We watched it turn from white to red, you said "I don't think you love her."
If I got you in my bedroom
I don't know what I would do
You couldn't wipe the smile from my face
We spoke in self-important tongues, I said "Yeah, as if I'd touch her."
If I got you in my bedroom
I don't know what I would do
You couldn't wipe the smile from my face
And when you're done, lick me up
It's not love, it's just a goddamn disgrace
"Sometimes I wish that I was dead."
"Oh please! As if I'd ever let ya."
And I don't know what I could do...
You couldn't wipe the smile from my face
And when you're done, lick me up
It's not love, it's just a goddamn disgrace
It's your fault I'm the wreck I am
And if I can't speak, then it's your fault
And I miss you more than I can stand
I want to choke on you
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"But I don't know, I want to choke on you." "After Tom (Bromley) had strummed the last reversed chord of the intro to this song, we all sat in silence and played it back as we looked out of the only window in the studio. There was an old awning that had weathered in the sun and it's bleached fabric of brown and gold was flapping against the glass, casting shadows into the studio; almost, somehow, moving in slow motion. Imagine that in your head when you listen to the intro. Transcendental, huh?"
“It’s probably about being bad at sex. Or missing someone who is gone. Or being afraid of sex. Or thinking about dying a lot. I’m not too sure. I’m no Casanova, and I do think that once we’ve slid off our mortal coils, we’re gone for good—so I guess that kind of makes sense. I don’t know. I’m face down in the gutter, but I’m pretty sure the stars are still looking at me.” -Tom Lanyon (https://noisey.vice.com/en_au/article/ceres-premiere-new-anti-casanova-anthem-choke)